


dancing days

by danielscarfmaan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danielscarfmaan/pseuds/danielscarfmaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We bake. We trailer bake."</p>
            </blockquote>





	dancing days

It’s Stiles who comes up with the idea. It’s summer, the few weeks separating their senior year in high school and their freshman year in college. It’s hot and sticky and all they can do is sit in Stiles’ backyard, downing soda pop after soda pop. It’s been rather quiet lately. No more Alphas trying to recruit anybody and no more teachers trying to sacrifice all the adult figures in their lives. Derek’s off with Cora on a road trip, the mere thought of it makes them both shiver - and Scott and his mum are in Hawaii for some bonding time without the overwhelming werewolf stuff and won’t be back for yet another week. Isaac was supposed to come, Melissa’s got guardianship over him after all, but he feels like they needed some time alone. Besides, they did pull together a vacation to Florida the summer before and Isaac’s going to live off of the memory of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter for a very, very long time. And he’s got Stiles.

That’s all he needs this summer, really. He knows it’s a bit stupid, but hey, two months with your best friend isn’t something to complain about. Especially considering there’s going to be miles and miles between them once summer is over. But that doesn’t matter now. Isaac tries not to think of it because it hurts more than it should in a way it shouldn’t, but Isaac can hardly do something about the way Stiles is; the way he enchants people with his very presence. Not that he enchants Isaac. No, not at all. He’s very neutral when it comes to Stiles’ enchanting personality.

It’s early afternoon and they’re laying in the bright orange loungers in the backyard of the Stilinski household, limbs everywhere and Stiles is waving a magazine in front of his face. Isaac, on the other hand, doesn’t mind the heat which according to his friend is “because you’re practically a dog! It wouldn’t surprise me if your skin’s like fur. Just keep your tongue in your mouth, Buster”. Isaac just laughs. He always does when Stiles says things like that lately, and it’s becoming irritating but it just comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. It’s not like he can help the fact that he obviously finds his friend amusing. It’s definitely not a bad thing. It’s good to laugh; for christ’s sake, his name means He laughs. Of course he’s laughing.

He’s snapped back to reality by a sudden cry from Stiles who shoots up with a gigantic grin on his face. Isaac looks around the garden, but he doesn’t really see anything different from the last time he looked around ten minutes ago.  
“What?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he sits up properly in the chair. He looks around again, but he really can’t see anything that hasn’t been there all the time. The flowers in every colour Isaac can’t even begin to imagine - it’s the Sheriff’s new hobby since Beacon Hills has gone back to being a calm town for the time being - are still very much alive and all over the place; and there’s the shed, and a light blue trailer that looks like it witnessed the world’s first dawn. “I can’t..” He starts, but the words fade away as Stiles marches over to the trailer, giving the door a friendly pat.  
“Isaac, my man, roll up your sleeves ‘cause we’re about to get dirty.”

* * * *

“I can’t.. I can’t take it anymore.” Stiles pants, his hand barely holding onto the sponge as he waves his snapback infront of his face with the other. He’s almost fully stripped; the shorts are loosely hanging on his hips. Isaac just shakes his head, partly to distract himself from staring and partly because it’s been ten minutes, and continues to rub the dirt off the side of the trailer.  
“Maybe it’d help if you’d tell me why we’re cleaning it.” Isaac tries, gently scrubbing the trailer door. Stiles gazes at him for what feels like an eternity, rubbing his lips together in thought, before he finally replies.  
“Isaac, do you bake?”  
“You know I bake, Stiles.” The taller boy scoffs, sensing that his friend is definitely building up to something.  
“Well, you’re gonna be a trailer baker from this day on.”  
Silence. Stiles is clearly expecting him to jump and down in excitement.  
“A what?”  
Stiles sighs.  
“We bake. We trailer bake.”  
“We what?”  
Stiles groans loudly like Isaac is the dumbest person he’s ever come across.  
“We will be baking...” He says, giving the trailer a few nice pats. “In this thing.”  
“You want me to spend my days in this thing? You do realise it’s one hundred degrees out, right?” Isaac crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. He may handle heat quite well but that’s just asking for it.  
“We’ll have some of those handheld fans,” His friend shrugs like everything will figure itself out as they go along.  
“How will we hold these fans if we’re going to bake?”  
“You need to stop spreading so much negative energy, dude.”  
“I’m not! I’m just.. Who’ll want to come into your backyard and buy our stuff?” Isaac murmurs, his gaze falling on the sponge as he half-heartedly rubs some dirt off the trailer. He remembers his boy scout days when he’d knock on door after door to sell candy but nobody ever bought a thing. Why would this be any different if he couldn’t even get someone to buy candy?  
“No one. That’s why we’re gonna hang out down by the lake,” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows with a broad grin on his face, his eyes glittering in excitement. “It’s one hundred degrees out. People will want to take a swim and then they’ll want some ice-cold soda and a nice slice of pie. It’s merely our duty as citizens to cater to these people. If we won’t, who will?”  
“I wouldn’t like to see them suffer, no..” He sighs dramatically, a small smile on his lips. His friend’s excitement is undeniably infecting, slowly nestling its way under his skeptical skin. But no matter wether he’s skeptical or excited, Isaac knows this will be a summer to remember.

*****

“We need to come up with a good name,” Stiles says, his voice muffled by the snapback protecting his face from the glowing sun. It’s only been thirty minutes since he convinced his friend to officially shake hands about their new project, but he insisted on a break nonetheless. ‘It’ll go quick to fix this thing up when we really do need it’, he says, waving with his hand to express just what a small priority the trailer’s condition is at the moment. Isaac argues that they need to be sure it’s in mint condition because the whole project depends on its condition but when his friend lays down on the ground in protest, he just laughs and rushes to grab the last of the blue bubble gum soda pop. God bless Jones’ Pure Cane Soda during warm californian summer days.  
“How about Stilinski & Lahey?” Isaac asks in between gulps of some green apple soda. The other boy snorts as he raises the snapback to shake his head at his friend.  
“What are we? A law firm?”  
“I’m trying to get the ball moving. If it doesn’t suit you, why don’t you come up with a better one?”  
“Stiles’ Supercakes.”  
“We could always make it Stiles’ suppercakes and pour meat sauce and spaghetti into those cakes.”  
“This is like trying to ask Scott what my name would be if I was born in the Star Wars universe.”  
“Gresh-Wan.” Stiles can’t help but shiver at the mere hint at his birth name.  
“I hate you.”  
“You’re right, you’re more Anakin to me.”  
“Asshole,” Stiles mutters, angrily popping a soda bottle open.  
“He did spend two films being smokin’ hot,” Isaac shrugs.  
“Until he became down-right evil and took control of the entire galaxy,” His friend replies before letting out a sharp gasp, his whiskey coloured eyes glittering once again. “I’ve got it,” He shrieks, struggling to get out of the lounger before rushing over to stand in the middle of the yard. He points at the flowers and then at the trailer as he makes lightsaber sound effects. Isaac wrinkles his nose, and goes through every Star Wars pun he and Stiles have ever thrown at each other but he can’t pair any of them up with his friend who keeps pointing at the flowers and the trailer with less strong sound effects but nonetheless excited ones.  
“I’m going to need at least five guesses to get your show right.”  
“Flour Power!” Stiles shouts, a wide grin on his face. Isaac returns the grin, shaking his head just the slightest as he makes thumbs up at his friend who rubs his throat as he limps back to his lounger.

*****

The Sheriff blinks, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at the two boys standing in front of him; one with a smirk and glittering eyes and the other one with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans shorts and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.  
“Let me get this right.. You’re going to fix up a trailer that hasn’t seen a road since the eighties so you can drive it down to the lake and use it as a bakery to sell your products to anyone who’s brave enough to try?”  
“We will also have soda floats,” Stiles adds.  
“I actually bake,” Isaac murmurs, raising his hand slightly. It’s the first thing he’s said since the two stormed into the kitchen as soon as the Sheriff came back with the groceries, like they’d been luring right by the door separating their kitchen from their dining room. Mostly because Stiles stopped talking about thirty seconds ago.  
“I say go for it,” He sighs softly, shaking his head. “I’ll help you with the license as long as you two promise I won’t be investigation a poison drama any time soon.”  
“So, later is better?” Then he quickly adds, “I’m joking, dad.” His father however does not look like he’s about to crack up laughing.  
“I have responsibility for you while Melissa is away,” He says, his gaze now on Isaac. “So, if he starts trouble, you’re free to go.”  
“Dad, we’re eighteen.”  
“Being a certain age does not automatically grant you the maturity you should have.”  
“What does that even mean?” Stiles frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. But his father just flashes him a smile and slips out of the kitchen. “Does he not trust me?” He frowns, again, as he glances back at Isaac. “He trusts Scott. I’m his son! Dad!”  
“To be fair, I wouldn’t trust you if I was him either,” Isaac chuckles softly, a crooked smirk on his lips.  
“One more word, and I’ll have full menu rights.”  
“Nobody will want to buy cakes with your face on it.” His friend just replies with an eye roll that reminds him too much of the Hale siblings. Stiles may claim to dislike both of them, but the mannerisms he’s picked up says otherwise.

Isaac follows him outside and watches him climb into his lounger again, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he scribbles down ‘Flour Power Menu #1’ on a notepad he managed to grab on his way out.  
“We’ve gotta have pie,” He says, glancing up at the taller boy, who sinks down in his seat next to him, with a serious look on his face. “Pecan pie in particular. Served with whipped cream because that’s the humane thing to do.”  
“What about strawberry pie?” Isaac muses. “It’s more summer than pecan.”  
“People have made pecan pie into a holiday meal. It is not supposed to be a holiday pie and I’m trying to free it from a horrible faith.”  
"I'll agree to the pecan pie if you agree to swiss rolls with strawberry jam."  
"And on Fridays, it’s replaced by apple sauce because a finer swiss roll is hard to find,” Stiles grins wide, scribbling ‘swiss roll w strawberry jam and friday specials with apple sauce” down. His eyes are glittering once more, and Isaac can feel himself nearly god damn tingle at the sight. But he shoves it back down, licking his dry lips as he forces himself to gaze at the trailer across the yard instead of his best friend. He isn't about to screw this one up.  
“Ever had a piece of dirt cake, Lahey?”  
“No, sir,” Isaac shakes his head, tilting his head to look at him, curious to find out wether this is a baked good or a funny insult he’ll pretend to be angry about whilst trying hard to keep his laughter from escaping his lips.  
“Do you like chocolate pudding?” Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow as he gazes back at him.  
“With whipped cream, sure?”  
“How would you feel about having chocolate pudding with whipped cream, oreo cookies and some good ol’ gummy worms?”  
“I must say I feel pretty good about that,” He answers, nodding to confirm his words as he tries to figure out what a dirt cake looks like.  
“I was thinking we could have them in tiny buckets and have tiny shovels as the spoons…”


End file.
